


and it all happens too fast

by ell (amywaited)



Category: Marvel
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Engagement, Flash is an Asshole, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Parent Bruce Banner, Parent Tony Stark, Peter is in Highschool, Science Family, a tumblr prompt, harley is in college, i guess?, is that what its called, non superpowered au, not peter and wades tho, promptfill, wade is in highschool, wade is reckless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 04:57:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15381153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amywaited/pseuds/ell
Summary: peter doesnt know how it happens, but then tonys getting married, harleys dating, wade is fighting, and he cant keep up. he tries to anyway





	and it all happens too fast

**Author's Note:**

> this was for a prompt on tumblr! sorry it took me so long to write. and also that im posting it on ao3. but im not formatting 6 thousand words on tumblr, okay. im sorry but im not.

Wade’s leaning on his locker when Peter gets to school.

He’s actually sort of blocking the locker underneath Peter’s, but everyone looks too scared to ask him to move. Which, Peter doesn’t blame them for. If he didn’t know Wade personally, he definitely wouldn’t want to cross him. Because Wade actually looks kind of, well, scary, all big muscles, uncomfortably blue eyes, just-rolled-out-of-bed hair (literally, just woke up. Peter knows, because that’s what Wade looks like when he wakes up), and the added bonus of mottled red scars in his forearms, winding their way up his arms.

And, Wade drives a motorcycle.

Which Peter has never actually ridden on, because they terrify him, actually.

“Ho-ly shit,” Wade yells out, as soon as he catches sight of Peter.

“Oh, shut up,” Peter tells him, elbowing him out the way so he can open his locker.

“No, I mean it. Holy mother of Mary, Joseph and Moses.”

“Thats not even how it goes,” Peter tells him, pulling his books out.

“I don’t care,” Wade says seriously. “You look scrumptious.”

“You always say that.”

“I mean it this time.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “You always mean it.”

“Well, you are one hundred and seventeen percent correct,” Wade says, then he puts on a terrible, British accent, “But you are looking mighty fine, if I do say so myself.”

“Stop that,” Peter says, flicking him in the nose. “Come on, what do you have first?”

Wade makes a face. “Home Ec. You?”

“Calc. See you after?”

“In gym!” Wade sings.

“Yep,” Peter sighs. The bell rings. “Go on then. Don’t want to be late for Home Ec.”

“Yes, I do,” Wade tells him, staring into his eyes so Peter knows exactly how serious he is. Then Wade’s back, grinning and shouting, “I’ll see you, ass!”

Peter yells back, “I’m not a piece of meat!” But Wade already has his fingers in his ears and is halfway down the hall.

 

* * *

 

 

Calc is boring. It always is. Mostly because Peter can do all of the equations in the blink of an eye, but also because the professor makes him want to fall asleep.

The one exciting thing that happened was Flash punching him in the nose and consequently getting a detention. Peter has dried blood on his shirt and under his nails now.

Wade’s waiting outside of the classroom door when the bell rings. As soon as he catches sight of Peter, he lifts him (fuck, Wade is tall. And strong) and spins him around to the emptier side of the corridor. Where he demands, “How the fuck did that happen?”

“What, the blood?” Peter asks, scratching at it on his shirt.

“Yes, the blood,” Wade says.

“Nose bleed. Flash punched me. But I’m fine.”

“I thought he wasn’t doing that anymore?”

“Guess he is,” Peter shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. He got a detention. Come on, gym.”

Wade glowers at nothing. “We should go to the nurse.”“We should not,” Peter says firmly. “I’m fine. It’s just dried now. Come on. We’re going to be late.”

“The nurse will give us a note,” Wade says. “Come on, we’re going.”

“Wade-” Peter tries to say, but Wade has already hauled Peter onto his back (because there’s no other way he’s going to the nurse) and is making his way down the corridor.

“Peter,” Wade replies, sounding very pleased with himself. “You should call your dad.”

“I should not! Do you know what he’d do if he found out?” Peter exclaims.”He’d sue literally everyone.”

“I actually meant Bruce, but getting Tony to sue everyone sounds like an even better plan.”

Peter releases one of his arms from Wade’s neck and flicks him on the ear. “That’s not a good plan. But calling dad would be better, I guess.”

“See? I am right sometimes,” Wade says, before using his finger on Peter’s thigh to ease his phone out of his pocket. “Here you go.”

Peter sighs, taking his phone from Wade and thumbing into it. He taps Bruce’s contact profile, before shoving the phone between his ear and shoulder, and then looping his arm back around Wade’s neck.

“ _Peter? Why are you calling in the middle of the day?_ ”

“Hey, dad, look,” Peter starts, “Don’t tell dad, or Harley, but there was this thing, and I got a nose bleed, Wade’s taking me to the nurse and he said I should call you.”

_“What- Why did you get a nose bleed? And why am I not telling Tony or Harley?”_ Bruce asks.

“Because they’ll panic. You’re the only one with any hope of maybe staying calm,” Peter says. “Anyway, you might get a letter from the nurse soon.”

_“You normally only get letters when the reason you’re going to the nurse was because of a physical attack_ ,” Bruce says. “ _So, who punched you?_ ”

“ _What?!_ ” Comes Tony’s screech in the background. “ _Who punched who? Who are you talking to? Is that Peter? Who punched him?”_

“ _Jesus, Tony,”_ Bruce says. _“I don’t know who punched him yet. He’s with Wade, going to the school nurse.”_ _  
_

“This is exactly why I didn’t want dad to find out,” Peter informs them.

_“You weren’t gonna tell me?_ ”

“I would have told you eventually,” Peter corrects. “Look, I have to go now. I’m fine, we’re fine, everyone’s fine. See you, bye!” Then he hangs up and sighs.

“You live in a madhouse,” Wade tells him.

“Don’t I know it,” Peter replies, and jumps down as Wade pushes open the door to the nurse’s office.

The nurse is a surprisingly young, beautiful, woman who tells everyone to call her Helen, even though Peter still calls her Doctor Cho.

“Peter, I was wondering when you’d turn up,” she says, turning. There’s a pencil tucked behind her ear, and another holding her hair in some kind of bun that Peter could only dream to replicate. “And you brought Wade? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Actually, he brought me,” Peter admits. “He thinks I need to get checked over.”

“You got punched, Peter,” Wade says, “Again. Your nose might be broken. Obviously, I’d still love you the same, but it would ruin a little bit how symmetrical your face is.”

“Fuck you,” Peter mutters.

“You get punched a lot, I’m beginning to think you enjoy it,” Doctor Cho says. “Come on, sit down. Let’s get our stories straight.”

Peter slumps into the chair that’s beginning to feel a little like his second home. It’s the sticky sort of faux leather that you’d find in most hospital waiting rooms, and it’s kind of overstuffed. The faux leather is cracked and peeling, and it’s definitely not the prettiest colour (a dull sort of brown), but its not bad. Wade sinks down to sit at his feet.

“So,” Doctor Cho says, removing the pen from her ear and scribbling something on the sign in sheet. “Have we called parents yet?”

“We called his dad,” Wade says, “On the way here.”

“Bruce or Tony?” Doctor Cho asks. The awe that Peter has come to expect doesn’t slip into her tone, and whether its hospital professionalism, or that their names just.. Don’t impress her all that much, Peter doesn’t know, but he’s glad for it. One can only suffer through so much starstruck-ness.

“Dad,” Peter says, “but dad also knows.”

“He means Bruce, and then Tony overheard,” Wade translates.

“And your brother?” Cho asks. “Is he aware?”

“Why do you wanna know?” Peter asks.

“I would like to know whether I need to expect any angry family members storming into my workspace,” Doctor Cho says. “Harley doesn’t know?”

“We haven’t called him,” Peter says.

“Okay. Who punched you, then?” She asks.

“Flash,” Wade supplies. “Thompson. Grade A asshole.”

“I could get you in trouble for that language, mister.”

“But you wouldn’t,” Wade winks, “I’ve just experienced the trauma of seeing my one true love absolutely soaked in blood.”

“Wade, please, it’s like a thimbleful,” Peter says, leaning over to tug gently on his hair.

“I’m surprised you know what a thimble is,” Cho says. “Can I-?”

Peter nods, so she reaches over to prod at the black eye that is no doubt developing. “He really did a number on you this time,” she murmurs. “You know you have a split lip, too?”

“Huh, I do? Badass.”

“Not really,” Cho says, but she’s smiling. “We can probably get you off school for the rest of the day, if you want. I can get Flash into suspension, too. He won’t bother you for at least a week.”

“You can do that?” Peter asks.

“I’m offended you’re doubting my abilities, Mr Banner,” Cho says, “Or is it Stark today?”

“Keener,” Peter says. “I’m taking Harley’s last name until my dads get it together and decide whose name they want to take. Though they’ll probably keep Stark, since it’s on the front of literally everything.”

If she’s surprised, she doesn’t let on. “Alright, Mr Keener. Let’s get this lip patched up and some ice on your eye. If Wade can call a parent and get them in, we can send you home. Leave Flash to me.”

“Can Wade come home too?” Peter asks.

“I don’t think I’d be able to stop him if he wanted to go to,” Cho says, smiling.

“Damn right you wouldn’t,” Wade says, slipping his hand into Peter’s pocket and pulling out his phone. “May I?”

“Go for it,” Peter says. Now that he thinks about it, he really can feel the lip too.

Wade grins. “Awesome.” He taps Peter’s phone open, and then holds it up to his ear. His grin widens when someone picks up.

“Don’t ruin my life,” Peter tells him.

“No promises,” Wade replies, but the twinkle in his eyes betrays him.

“No flirting in my hospital,” Doctor Cho says, and then she presses an ice pack against Peter’s eye with no warning, making him hiss. “Hold there,” she tells him.

Peter nods, replacing her hand with his. She drenches a cotton pad in alcohol solution and dabs it on his lip, which hurts enough to edge on almost unbearable. Cho swipes away the dried blood around his nose too, and the rusty smell slowly gets replaced by rubbing alcohol.

“Tony’s coming,” Wade announces, slipping Peter’s phone into his own pocket. “He’ll be here, like, now.”

“Great,” Peter sighs, just as the door swings open.

“Oh, hey. Nice shiner, kid,” Tony says. “Wade, Doctor Cho.”

“Hey, dad,” Peter says. “That bad?”

“Had worse,” Tony shrugs. “But it’s pretty impressive.”

“Great,” Peter says. “Doctor Cho says I can go home. Have you told Harley yet?”

“Leaving that to you, bud,” Tony grins. “We taking Wade too?”

“He’ll find his own way,” Peter sighs.

Wade grins. “Half the fun. Hey, want your phone back?”

Peter nods, so Wade hands it over. Cho moves away from his eye, so Peter reaches a hand up to prod it and map out the circumference.

“Don’t,” Cho tells him, batting his hand away. “Let me fill out your forms, find a mirror for you, and you can go.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Doctor,” Tony says. “Peter? Next time you get punched, you’re grounded.”

“What!? Dad, you can’t do that! It’s not like it’s my fault!” Peter protests.

Tony chuckles. “Kidding, bud. C’mon, say thank you to Doctor Cho. She’s probably getting sick of you by now.”

“I wouldn’t ever,” Cho says. She hands a sheet of paper and a pen to Tony, “You’ll need to sign, thank you.”

Tony nods, scribbling his signature on the line. He hands the pen back and holds his hand out for Peter to grab.

“I’m not five,” Peter informs him, but he takes it anyway.

“Sure you aren’t, kid,” Tony says. “Come on, then. I’ve got Bruce waiting in the car, so we should go. I won’t tell Harley if you don’t.”

“I wasn’t going to tell him in the first place,” Peter admits.

“Bruce will,” Tony says. “Thanks again, Doctor Cho. See you later, no doubt, Wade.”

“Yeah. Bye, Wade,” Peter says, leaning over so he can drop his forehead to Wade’s chest. “Don’t kill anyone while I’m out.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, honey bunches,” Wade says. “I have Prof Moore next, so I gotta get going. But I’ll find you after?”

“You better,” Peter threatens. “Bye.”

“Try not to get punched again,” Cho says, waving. Then she turns back to her desk and writes out a hall pass for Wade.

Tony leads Peter out of the med room, and then down towards the car park. He’s brought one of his more inconspicuous cars today, a black pick-up truck with tinted windows, but not enough that it’s too noticeable. Peering in, Peter can see some of Bruce’s old lab equipment stacked up in the back.

Tony opens the drivers side door, so Peter slides into the back seat. “Hey, dad.”

“Hey, Peter,” Bruce says. “Too soon for a fist bump, or not?”

“Too cringe, more like,” Peter mutters, holding up his hand for a high five instead. Bruce chuckles and taps his hand.

“How was school, then?” Bruce asks.

“Short,” Peter replies.

“Hm,” Tony says, “I wonder why. So who was it who punched you? Flash, did Cho say?”

“Yeah. Flash,” Peter says. “Thompson. He’s an asshole.”

“Language,” Bruce says.

“It doesn’t count if it’s true,” Tony counters. He makes a turn into Manhattan, only just managing to miss running a red light.

“Tony,” Bruce sighs. “We talked about that.”

“Aren’t senior citizens supposed to retake their drivers tests anyway?” Peter adds.

“Shut up, both of you,” Tony grumbles.

Peter chuckles, tuning them both out. He watches as they track the familiar path to the Stark Tower. New York streets are busy and polluted, but they’re familiar and home.

The tower can be spotted from miles away, and Peter likes to watch as the arc reactor blue of the letters grow larger and larger. Tony pulls into the underground garage, parks, and says, “JARV, open the doors.”

“You could do that,” Bruce says.

“What’s the point of having an AI in charge of the tower if you don’t make him do things like that?” Tony asks. “He’ll never learn if he doesn’t practice.”

“Forgive me, sir, but I’ve been opening your doors since you first created me. I doubt I need the practice,” JARVIS says.

Peter laughs. “Hey, JARVIS.”

“Good morning, Master Keener.”

“Keener, now?” Tony asks.

“Well, until you two get your shit-”

“Peter,” Bruce sighs.

“-Together, I’ve decided I’m going to take Harley’s name,” Peter explains. “Sorry, dad.”

“He’s got a point,” Bruce says.

“Uh, what?” Tony asks. “Hang on-”

“We should get married,” Bruce continues.

“No. Nope, you are not proposing to me in my fucking garage,” Tony says.

“We should also get a swear jar,” Bruce adds.

“This is the sort of situation that requires a swear, Bruce!” Tony practically shouts, flailing his hands wildly. Peter has to duck to avoid getting hit. “Are you proposing?”

Peter giggles. “Well, are you going to say yes?”

“Oh, you fuckin-” Tony grins at Bruce, even though he looks close to tears. “You’re an idiot. I can’t believe you just asked me to marry you in my garage. You don’t even have a ring, you great big mess. Oh, God, this means having to tell people. And engagement parties. And wedding parties, and shit.”

“I think dad needs to lie down,” Peter says.

“I think dad does,” Tony echoes. “Fucking Christ.”

“Well, I hope not,” Bruce says. Peter squeals and covers his ears.

 

* * *

 

 

He calls Harley as soon as he gets into his room, forgetting entirely about his bruise. “Dad’s getting married,” he blurts as soon as Harley picks up, in the middle of a college lecture.

“You what- He’s what? Marrying who?”

“Who do you think, idiot? They’re actually, finally, getting married,” Peter says. “Why are you answering a call in class?” he tries to ask, but Harley’s too busy whooping.

“How soon did it take dad to start complaining?” Harley asks.

“Like, five seconds. Here, JARVIS, send the video to Harley, please,” Peter says. “It was pretty funny, honestly.”

“I’ll watch it later. You’re telling me where you got the shiner from, too,” Harley says. “I should go now. My professor is glaring.”

“Alright. Bye,” Peter says, then hangs up before Harley can.

He can hear Tony squealing at Pepper in the lounge. He can almost hear Pepper responding, sounding tired and quieter but equally excited. Bruce is probably there too, watching Tony.

In fact, he’s so distracted, he forgets about the bruise. At least, until he falls off of his bed and onto his lip when Tony decides to screech something insanely loud and wholly unintelligible.

Wade got caught up at school, getting a lunchtime detention for being ‘loud and unruly’. Which is kind of normal, in terms of Wade. But it means he can’t sneak away till after the lunch period, which means Peter has to try to reign in his excitement.

Thankfully, Harley gets out of college at one, and its three minutes to now. So Peter only has to wait fifteen minutes before Harley will be there, and then they can scream together.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh, my God,” is the first thing Harley says upon entering the living room. Bruce and Tony are curled up on the same armchair, kissing.

“Shut up, we just got engaged,” Tony murmurs out, even though half of it is obscured by Bruce.

“Yeah, and I’m very happy for you. There are just some things I really didn’t need to see. Where’s Peter?”

“Room,” Bruce says, “And Tony’s right, we just got engaged. Cut some slack.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harley says. “Congrats, and all that. Took you long enough. Is Wade here? Did Wade punch Peter?”

“Yes, no,” Tony answers. “Can’t you see we’re busy?”

“It’s almost like you don’t care that your eldest child is standing right here.”

“Of course we do. I just care more about this right now,” Tony says.

“How mad was Pepper?” Harley asks.

“Tell you later,” Tony says. Bruce says, “Very,” at the same time.

“I give up,” Harley announces. “Don’t forget about dinner.” He dumps his backpack in his own room before pushing open the door to Peters.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he sighs, pulling the door shut.

“Harley!” Peter exclaims, practically leaping away from Wade. “Knock, next time?”

“I didn’t know Wade was here!” Harley protests.

“He’s always here,” Peter says, “Just assume that whenever my door is shut, he’s here!”

“Your codependency always shocks me,” Harley says.

“If you think that’s codependency, take a look at our parents,” Peter mutters, slowly inching back towards Wade, who’s been sitting still on Peter’s bed, suspiciously quiet.

“Oh, my God,” Harley says, and then Peter’s jumping up and squealing and spinning in circles.

“I just can’t believe they finally did it, you know? In the garage. Dad didn’t even have a ring!” Peter says, “It was hysterical. It was so amazing. Did you watch it?”

Harley shakes his head, so Peter says, “JARVIS, replay.”

“Of course, Master Keener.” (They share a little smile when JARVIS says that.)

 

* * *

 

 

Peter wakes up exhausted, which is seventy five percent his and Harley’s fault after they stayed up past two looking at Pinterest wedding boards. The twenty five percent is that Tony and Bruce are horrifically loud and there are definitely some things Peter could have gone his whole life without hearing.

“Morning, Peter,” Pepper says when he walks into the kitchen, shirtless and wearing what look like Wade’s sweatpants (if the bagginess is anything to go by). “Are they your trousers?”

“Uh- I don’t think so,” Peter says. “Morning.”

She’s sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and twisting her strawberry blonde hair into a complicated looking, professional bun on the back of her head. Seeing Pepper ready herself for work in their rooms has long become normal. Most mornings she’s there, if only to get Tony up and make something vaguely resembling breakfast (since neither Bruce nor Tony are vaguely coherent in the mornings, and no one would get fed otherwise).

“How are you?” Pepper asks, sliding a sparkly clip into her bun and then taking a sip of coffee. “There’s food keeping warm in the oven.”

“Good. Tired,” Peter says, crossing the kitchen to the coffee machine. There's the drawer of coffee pots next to it, so he slides one in and grabs the second largest mug in the cupboard.

“Didn’t sleep well?”

“Fell asleep later than I should have,” he says, sliding the mug out of the machine once its done, before carrying it back to the table and worming his way under Pepper’s arm.

Pepper chuckles but hugs him, using her finger tips to tear a corner of toast off of her plate. “Is Harley still here?”

“What time is it?” Peter asks.

“About three minutes past seven,” Pepper replies, checking her watch (which is a diamond studded face with a slim, glittery strap, and Peter kind of wants it).

“He’s still around. He won’t leave till eight, unless it’s a Thursday.”

“It’s a Wednesday,” Pepper says. “I’m assuming Tony is not to be disturbed.”

“I’m led to believe he is considering taking the day off of work,” JARVIS says.

“Will you tell him he can’t, since we have probably the most important meeting of his entire career today?” Pepper asks. “And if he leaves me to do it myself, I’ll castrate him.”

JARVIS sounds like he would be laughing when he says, “Of course, Ms Potts.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, before Tony comes crashing into the kitchen. “Pep, please, I’m up, and it’s early.”

Pepper laughs. “You’re alright, Tony. Good morning, Bruce.”

Bruce lifts a hand in greeting, following behind Tony. He then threads a hand through Peter’s hair. “Morning, Pete.”

“Morning, dad,” Peter says, sliding out from under Pepper’s arm so he can slip under Bruce’s instead.

“Do you need a lift to school?” Tony asks.

“No, I’m taking the subway with Gwen,” Peter says. “She’s coming here at quarter to eight.”

“Okay,”  Bruce says. “You have lunch money?”

“I don’t eat lunch at school,” Peter says.

“You what?” Tony says before getting interrupted by Harley coming in, so he says, “Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Fuck off, dad,” Harley mutters, sounding every ounce of tired that he looks.

“Wanna repeat that?” Bruce asks.

“It doesn’t count when it’s seven in the morning,” Harley says, “Besides, dad says it often enough.”

“That doesn’t make dad right,” Bruce says.

“Dad is always right,” Tony protests, “Now, come on. Eat something. Both of you”

Peter obediently takes a slice of toast the plate Harley just made and nibbles a corner.

“Peter!” Harley complains. “Get your own toast!”

“It’s just toast,” Peter says around a mouthful of it, shrugging.

“Dad, tell Peter to not steal my food. I’m in college now, I need my sustenance,” Harley says.

“Peter, give Harley back his toast,” Tony says. He’s very distracted by the horrifically large pile of paperwork Pepper has produced from.. Somewhere and dumped in front of him.

Harley grimaces. “I don’t want his half eaten toast. Whatever. Keep it. You’re a monster.”

“Harley, its half seven,” Bruce says, checking his watch. “Have you got all your books?”

“I’m not leaving till eight,” Harley says. “Besides, I’ve got to stick around to bitch at Peter for eating my toast.”

“You have like, seven slices on that plate,” Peter protests, “You’re not gonna miss one!”

“Well, whaddya know, I do,” Harley gripes.

“Stop it, boys,” Pepper says, taking a tube of orangey red lipstick from her purse and applying it, before saying to Tony, “I expect you in my office at nine thirty at the latest. Looking presentable, please.”

“When do I not look presentable?” Tony asks. Peter, Harley, Bruce, and Pepper all avoid his eye. “Okay, fine. I get it. You just don’t appreciate my fashion choices.”

“Tony, I love you, but those neon red, glow in the dark, fringed, leather jackets, were an abomination to fashion everywhere,” Bruce says. He pulls up a news feed using JARVIS’ hologram feature and ignores Tony’s affronted look.

“I thought you liked them?” Tony asks.

“No one liked them, dad,” Harley says, dumping the dregs of his orange juice down the sink and standing up.

“I liked them,” Tony says.

“You were the only one,” Peter says, standing up too. “Gwen’ll be here soon. I’m gonna finish getting ready.”

“Alright,” Bruce says. He scrolls down on his news page.

“I’ll see you all later,” Pepper says. “I have to run a company.”

“It’s my name on the building!” Tony calls after her as she enters the elevator.

“It's my name on literally everything else!” Pepper calls back, then the doors close on her grinning.

Peter smiles at the growing stack of dirty coffee mugs in the sink and then disappears to his room to finish getting ready for school.

 

* * *

 

 

He likes the subway. It’s dirty, and smelly, and infested with rats for often than not, but it makes him feel more, well. Normal.

Living in a multimillion dollar skyscraper, with a multimillionaire as your parent kind of gets exhausting after a while. Having the best of the best makes Peter feel horribly inhuman. Taking the subway with his best friend makes him feel more unspecial.

Tony doesn’t particularly like that he takes the subway. But it’s kind of quicker than getting Happy to drive him (intersections in New York take a surprisingly long time to drive through. And the traffic is normally a nightmare. Especially at rush hour.) Taking the subway during rush hour is busy, but its fairly easy.

Gwen makes it easy too, not letting go of his hand for anything (which is actually how they travel a lot. Sometimes Wade will join in, grabbing Peter’s other hand, and then making a blockage on the pathway).

There’s a station two minutes away from the school, too, and Wade normally waits outside for them. Like today, where his face lights up as soon as he sees Peter.

“You smell like subway,” Wade says, squeezing Peter into a hug and pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

“Nice to see you, too,” Peter says, returning the hug.

“I still love you,” Wade declares. “Despite the subway odor. Kisses?”

Peter grins, but leans up to kiss Wade. “Come on. We’ll be late.”

“Gwen!” Wade exclaims behind him. “You look radiant.”

“I always do,” Gwen says. “But Peter’s right. Come on.”

“You always do,” Wade repeats seriously.”And Peter’s always right.” He snatches up Peter’s hand and starts swinging them back and forth.

 

* * *

 

 

Homeroom is kind of a mess. Peter has one of Flash’s friends (even though employee seems like a more accurate description) sitting opposite him, and he keeps glaring daggers across the table. It makes him think, not for the first time, that high school is exhausting.

Just as the bell rings, Flash’s friend leans across and whispers, “This isn’t over.”

Which makes Peter’s heart drop into his stomach and his stomach drop into his toes.

Wade hears too, and squeezes Peter’s hand. But Wade hasn’t been threatening to them since freshman year, when they all found out that Wade was a ‘massive fucking fairy’. Even though Wade beat them all up and got suspended.

Flash’s friend grins. It’s almost disgustingly snake like, and makes tingles run down Peter’s spine. He can’t remember the last time another human being made him feel like that. “We can finish the job for him.”

Wade narrows his eyes. “Alright, fine. Parking lot, lunch. We’ll see who’ll come out on top.”

Peter turns to glare at Wade. “What are you doing?” He hisses, standing up when the teacher dismisses everyone. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“And you’ll get yourself killed too if this goes on,” Wade says “Besides, didn’t you know? I can’t die.”

Peter knows that false, but Wade sounds so cocky and sure of it that it reassures Peter too.

 

* * *

 

 

Lunch period can’t come soon enough. Peter’s kind of dreading it.

Wade’s leaning on his locker, which has kind of become a staple to Peter’s day. He looks so much like one of the popular kids its unnerving, but his smile is too wide to be popular when he sees Peter.

“You’re going to die,” Peter informs him. “You’re actually going to die.”

“I’m not going to die,” Wade says, “Have you seen these muscles?”

Peter swallows. After a beat of silence he says, “Doctor Cho’s going to be mad.”

“She’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. I can look after myself,” Wade says, pushing away from Peter’s locker to wrap his arms around Peter’s waist and rest his chin on his shoulder. Peter sighs and moves to open his locker, shoving the books inside and pulling out his water bottle.

“I know you can,” Peter says. “I just. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I’m not gonna get hurt,” Wade says.

Peter leans back into him. “You might.”

Peter feels him breath. “I’ll be fine,” Wade repeats. The bell rings.

 

* * *

 

 

Flash’s friend (Peter thinks his name is Calum? He’s not exactly sure.) sits at the end of their lunch table. It’s kind of unnerving, having someone about to punch his boyfriend watch them eat.

Peter would prefer the staring to Maybe-Calum pulling Wade by his collar to the outside lunch tables.

“Alright, asshole, square up,” Maybe-Calum says, shoving Wade into one of the metal tables and then bringing his fists up to cover his face.

Wade catches himself on the edge of it, using the momentum to push up and spin around. He throws the first punch, catching Maybe-Calum on the edge of his cheek.

Calum doesn’t duck in time, and the hit makes him stumble back a step. Peter doesn’t remember exactly when Wade got so ripped (or learned how to fight) but it’s working in his favour now.

“You’ll pay for that,” Calum says, but there’s a bruise forming already.

Peter feels like biting his nails, but Gwen picks up his hand before he can. “He’ll be fine,” she whispers. “Wade can look after himself.”

Peter sighs. “I know. But he can’t look after himself and me at the same time.”

Gwen nudges him with her elbow. “Stop it. Wade’ll be fine.”

Peter doesn’t reply. He watches Wade deliver a sharp uppercut and then a right hook just as Calum recoils with the force of the uppercut. Calum retaliates by spitting blood at Wade, and a glob of it lands on Wade’s cheek. He wipes it off with the disgust.

“Didn’t your mom ever teach you manners?” Wade asks. Peter sighs internally. “Oh, wait. She left when you were still in diapers.”

“Fucker,” Calum hisses. Then he flies at Wade, hitting with higher frequency and higher accuracy. Nearly every punch hits, attacking Wade’s face, upper chest, and stomach.

Someone’s filming it. Peter can see the phone but not the person, and there’s a whole crowd gathered now. They cheer every time someone lands a hit.

Peter hates it.

Wade lets the onslaught happen for a minute. Peter can see his eyes, see the calculating look in them, and is reminded that Wade is a lot smarter than anyone gives him credit for. Which is why he manages to catch Calum’s hand before he even thinks about lying the next punch. Calum kicks up inside, and the toe of his sneaker catches Wade in the chin.

So Wade grips Calum’s fist, curls a hand around Calum’s raised ankle, and then pushes his hand and pulls his foot at the same time.

Calum falls, its inevitable really, and Wade drops to a knee beside him. Wade presses a knee into Calum’s stomach, and leans close to whisper in his ear. Peter can’t hear what he’s saying but he can imagine.

Calum tilts his head back and then jabs it upward, headbutting Wade and breaking his nose.

So Wade pushes his forearm into Calum’s throat until he’s gagging.

Calum yells out, “Okay, fine! Fine! I won’t, we won’t anymore. Just let me go!”

Wade does, pushing up and away from him, and then saying, “You’re wasting your life. Give being nice a shot.”

That’s when the teachers come running out, someone pulling Calum to his feet and the principal swarming Wade.

Peter closes his eyes and wishes he could start the day again.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony calls. “ _What on earth happened?”_

“What do you mean?” Peter asks. He’s sitting next to Wade in Doctor Cho’s office.

“ _The school called. Since Wade’s only legal guardian is drunk of his ass, like always, they called us as the second in line. He got in a fight? Did you get hurt?”_ Tony asks.

“Us?” Peter asks, ignoring the rest of Tony’s question.

“ _Yes, me and dad, we’re both here and worried. This is the second time you’ve gone to the nurse in two days. What happened? Is something going on, Pete?_ ” Tony’s voice softens till it’s dripping honey.

“I’ll tell you when I get home,” Peter says. “But I’m fine.” Then he hangs up.

“If it’s not one of you,” Cho says, “It’s the other. Can’t you go one day without bothering me?”

“Oh, miss,” Wade sing-songs, “We just can’t stay away.”

Cho scoffs. “I can tell. Look up.”

Wade tilts his head up, and Doctor Cho presses an ice pack onto the bruise on Wade’s cheek, then sets about cleaning the blood from his nose. Wade had already reset it himself (another skill Peter kind of doesn’t want to know where he learned) and Peter can tell Cho isn’t happy about that.

“I don’t like that you reset your nose yourself,” she says, grimacing. Peter’s suspicions are confirmed.

“I did a good enough job,” Wade says, “Logan set it the first time I broke it. It’s never been straight since. It’s fine.”

“Logan? Your.. caretaker?” Cho asks.

“Damn straight. Only he hates that,” Wade shrugs. “Most of the time he made me set it myself anyway.”

“Why?” Cho asks, frowning.

“Life skills,” Wade says. “With a zee.”

Peter chuckles. “You’re an idiot. I can’t believe you did that.”

“Nor I,” Doctor Cho says.

“I can’t believe you just fought a kid. Flash is gonna kill you when he gets back,” Peter says.

“If he does, he’ll be expelled,” Cho says matter of factly. She pulls a pen light out of her pocket. “I need to check your vision. Follow the light.”

Peter watches as Wade moves his eyeballs around before continuing. “Logan was drunk when they called-”

“Is he ever,” Wade snorts.

“- So they called my dads. Which means they’re gonna want you to come home after school with me,” Peter says. “Dad wants to talk to you.”

“I’d rather talk to Bruce,” Wade sulks.

“Dad would be worse,” Peter says, “Promise. Harley won’t be home till, like, eleven, tonight. He has a study group. Which means he’s going on a date, since he’s never been to a study group in his life.”

“Harls is dating?” Wade gasps theatrically.

“Don’t call him Harls. And yes, he is. At least, I think he is. I would get JARV to check his contacts, but I kind of like having my brother’s trust,” Peter shrugs. “I don’t know. You’ve still gotta come home with me.”

“You two live such lives,” Cho says. She clicks the pen light off, unpeels a bandaid and sticks it on the cut on Wade’s forehead. “There. You’re done. You can probably go, but if you feel dizzy, or hot, or anything abnormal, come back and I’ll check you over again. You might have a concussion.”

“Awesome. Thanks, missus,” Wade says, grinning a dazzling smile at her.

“Yeah. Thanks,” Peter says. “Sorry we’re in here so often.”

“Maybe learn how to look after yourselves,”Cho suggests, before ushering them out of the room with a smile.

 

* * *

 

 

“How are you two going to survive to adulthood?” Tony asks as soon as the elevator opens to the living room.

He’s lounging on one of the couches with a flurry of blue holo-screens circling him. There’s several keyboards in languages Peter doesn’t recognise. Bruce is sitting by Tony’s feet, legs crossed on the couch cushions.

Peter chuckles, lifting Wade’s arm and looping it around his shoulders. “We’ll be fine.”

“It’s not like they have a great role model,” Bruce says, not looking up.

“Fuck you,” Tony says. “Guess what?”

“What?” Peter asks.

Tony holds his left hand up. “Look!”

“He got a ring! You got a ring!” Peter exclaims.

“Yep. We got matching ones,” Tony says, reaching over to grab Bruce’s hand and lifting it too.

“Cutesy,” Wade says. “Big.”

“Not as big as he wanted,” Bruce mutters. “I said no when we were approaching diamonds an inch wide.”

“They never got to an inch wide!” Tony says. “It was half an inch.”

“We settled on this [one](https://www.google.co.uk/search?rlz=1C1CHZL_enGB732GB735&biw=1366&bih=662&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=zrFTW5PVFo_VkwWw1Z3QBg&q=+engagement+rings&oq=+engagement+rings&gs_l=img.3..0i67k1j0l6j0i67k1j0l2.69780.72032.0.72213.3.3.0.0.0.0.164.293.2j1.3.0....0...1c.1.64.img..0.3.289...0i7i30k1.0.4RV0wqiJr90#imgrc=U6GkeZIfWzg__M),” Bruce says. 

“Have you even done a press announcement yet?” Peter asks.

“Oh, please, the papers would have caught us shopping earlier. It’s not like we were trying to hide,” Tony shrugs. “I think Pepper’s putting something on the company Twitter account later,” then he gasps. “We should do an engagement photoshoot!”

“No,” Bruce says, leaning over to swipe a hand through Tony’s holograms. “We can do normal, family pictures.”

Tony sighs. “Fine. Anyway, you two, sit down, please. We need to talk.”

Peter sits on the couch opposite Bruce and Tony, and Wade sits next to him. “About what?”

“About this. Helen Cho is getting sick of you.”

“She is not!” Peter gasps.

“She’s not,” Bruce confirms. “But this is getting to be a bit of a problem. How often to you two got to the nurse? It’s getting to be a problem. If someone’s doing this, tell us. Wade got in a fight today, but the principal didn’t tell us why. What happened? Who was he fighting?”

Peter sighs. “This guy, he- One of Flash’s friends.”

“Why?” Bruce asks.

“‘Cause he threatened us,” Wade says. “But he won’t anymore.”

“Because you threatened him?” Tony asks.

“I was protecting Peter,” Wade says.

Bruce frowns. “Things are so bad you think Peter needs protecting?”

Wade and Peter exchange glances, before Peter says, “Dad, there’s no point in trying to do anything, though. There’s one semester left, and then we’re going to college. And it’s fine. Wade stopped it today. Maybe not the right way, but he did.”

“Definitely not the right way,” Bruce says. “But I guess we don’t have the right to ground him for that. That’s Logan’s job.”

“When he’s not drunk,” Wade and Tony say at the same time.

Bruce sighs but says, “Yeah. Wade’s an adult now, though. You could live alone if you want to.”

“Nah,” Wade says. “Logan needs someone at home with him.”

“Not denying that,” Tony says. “But really, if you did want to move out, we could get you an apartment, put Logan in a care home or a rehabilitation centre.”  
  
Wade chuckles but says. “No. It’s fine. Is this talk done?”

“I feel like we’ve gotten the important parts in,” Tony says.

Bruce shrugs. “I guess it is. When’s Harley coming home tonight?”

Peter grins. “He has a daaate.”

“Harley has a date?” Tony asks.

Peter hums in confirmation. “He said study group, but he’s never been to a study group in his life, and he’s smart enough to not need to. He’s definitely got a date.”

“Does this mean we can give him the talk, too?” Tony says.

Bruce frowns. “I’m not doing that again.”

“He doesn’t need it, anyway,” Peter says quickly. “Anyway, Wade and I are going to my room. Nice rings.”

“Be safe!” Tony yells after them.

“Fuck off!” Peter yells back.

“Swear jar!” Bruce yells.

Peter grins. 

**Author's Note:**

> hey! hope you liked this. maybe comment? if you want? please?
> 
> also i linked the engagement ring i think they got. might update if i find a better one. idk. i like it. 
> 
> check out my [tumblr](https://spideysstark.tumblr.com) if you want. im taking prompts, and stuff. i write a few things on there. its pretty fun.
> 
> love you!


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